


A Captive Prince Prequel.

by kortu



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Captive, Laurent Knows, M/M, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 13:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4789745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kortu/pseuds/kortu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thirteen year-old Laurent's life instantly changes when he lets his brother Auguste go to battle with their despised enemy, the Akielons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Captive Prince Prequel.

**Author's Note:**

> It was written for a friend as a.. joke. I wanted to write a bedtime story in a few sentences, then I just couldnt stop. English is not my first language, also I'm not one heck of a writer. It's my first fanfic. Sorry for the mistakes.

once upon a time. on the land of a dark, spoiled and rotten kingdom, lived a prince called auguste, destined to be a leader, a warrior, a king. his positivity and bright personality shined through the corridors of vere, bringing joy and kindness to its people, people who adored him. he often found pleasure in training in his private, enormous backyard, studying politics and strategy with his lectors, and riding his favourite horse with his little brother on the field.

‘your future is our future,’ said his father, king enzo. ‘keep that in mind, boy.’

not a day went by, that the king wouldn’t remind auguste why everything he did, was important for their kingdom. he was expected to be good. more than good. he was born to rule, made to fight. made to be the pride of any father. any king. 

king enzo was a simple man, spared too much time on the prince, while he completely ignored laurent, the cheekiest, most mischievous thirteen year-old, whose mission was to adore his brother from afar, but never participate in any of his trainings. his body was much more fragile and delicate, and he’d rather spent time trying to break in his new horse and devising new, manipulating mind tricks that he could play on innocent guests at the court. he was found young and foolish, and the focus was on auguste, who didn’t mind the weight of responsibility he had to carry ever since he was a child. he was thirsty for victory, thirsty to feel alive. his only regret was that laurent spent way too much time captured in his own mind, alone in his chamber, missing out on all the great opportunities. he knew what he’d have been expected to do. marry a second-daughter of an ally, not cause any trouble in vere, and stay unimportant and invisible. not one person was capable of seeing what really lived inside laurent. no one but auguste. and no one looked up at auguste with as much admiration and grace as him. 

when laurent attended the court for the first time, the looks people’d given him were mortifying. it was common for young children and teenager boys to assist the elders and lords at the table as simple servants, but no one thought that the childish and thought-to-be-immature laurent’s got a place at the higher table. it was auguste, who stood up for him every time boys his age picked on him for being withdrawn and distant, yet acting like a graceful princeling with a serious and sharp mind, and a handful of tricks up his sleeve, always playing the innocent card. although he’d caused some serious trouble once in a while, laurent was not being punished. auguste often took him into the woods to play hide and seek, and in some cases they really were hiding from the guards, or picking berries and lying on the grass, imagining how and where they would live if they’d been born in a different place, to a different family. would they have to fight their responsibilities? would there be any at all? would there be another version of auguste, who’d rescue a young and foolish boy, a ghost to his family, and take him to another land by simply looking directly into his eyes? 

*

after the king fell ill and auguste was called to arms when their biggest enemy they despised declared a war, auguste said, running his fingers through laurent’s shiny golden locks, ‘i will come back. i will win. i will win for you.’  
laurent couldn’t say a word, he was too busy choking his tears back, trying to seem strong.  
‘i will come back,’ he repeated. ‘and when i’m king, you don’t have to live in the shadows anymore. you will be nothing but my equal.’  
‘it’s a trick,’ laurent said finally. ‘one has to be half as good as you to be ten times better than everyone else and destroy a whole kingdom. but they are going to capture and torture you. or worse. those barbarians—’  
auguste tilted his head and smiled, pulling laurent closer. ‘i know you’re worried, brother. but i will beat them. i’ve been trained for this all my life.’  
laurent shaked his head carefully, putting his own hands on auguste’s.  
‘it’s a trick, it always has been, ever since father...’ he swallowed audibly. ‘you have no instict for deception. you can’t recognise it in other people.’ he slowly sighed, gathering his courage for what he was going to say. ‘let me come with you.’  
auguste almost let out a snort. but his face turned white when he realised, laurent really meant it. ‘no.’  
‘but—’  
‘laurent. you don’t know how to fight.’  
‘i’ve been to your sessions,’ laurent said. ‘i have seen more than enough.’  
auguste shaked his head.  
‘you know how to use a sword, t’is true. but in these trying times, we need you here. you’re too young to be on the battlefield. i wouldn’t be able to protect you.’  
when laurent narrowed his eyes, he continued in a different, softer tone. ‘besides, who would greet me with the warmest hug once i return with the badges of the bastard king and his son?’  
he finally looked up and gazed into auguste’s eyes. ‘i will look after our father.’  
auguste nodded, and embraced laurent in an affectionate hug.

*

laurent however had no interest in looking after his sick father, who treated him like he was a filthy peasant from the village nearby, looking right through him. he felt nauseated by breaking his promise to his brother. but he couldn’t leave him. not right now. auguste was right, these are indeed trying times, and he needs to prove his worth and loyalty to the soon-to-be-king. the akielons can’t take over their kingdom, not when they’ve successfully completed their first mission and poisoned his father. he wished if only auguste could see through the lies.

after putting on an ordinary armor which would allow him to stay back near the tents with the spare soldiers and the medical team, he left his horse, that auguste helped to break in earlier, in the stables, instead he chose one of the commander’s. he didn’t want to be on the field. he just needed to know. if anything went wrong, he’d be the first to reach the castle, he could warn them, save them, save the kingdom before the akielons burn down the bridge behind themselves. he could do something worthy. if.

but nothing would happen. victory would happen. victory over the bastard akielons with a harem as big as the veretian army. auguste would beat them without a sweat. if this was a game, laurent would come up with a plan as the mastermind of the dinamite duo, and auguste would be the deadliest weapon. but its no game. and they already have a plan. auguste is the plan. the plan cannot fail. 

it does.

after nearly chasing the enemy back to their land, as they were on the verge of surrender, their prince, damianos rode into line with a spear and sword made of steel, covered in fine, expensive gold. the bastard king must have realised they were running out of men, and they had to send in their best fighter. laurent’s face lit up with excitement as he rode to the front. he would witness this. it would be just like the trainings he’d attended, watching him carefully, studying his movements, strength and weaknesses. he would surprise him before any other soldier could break out in a cheer, announcing the enemy’s death. what an honour it is to witness a kingdom falling to pieces. 

‘faster,’ he shouted as he gripped the handle. 

the soldiers were fighting for their lives as he rode by them, breaking out of line, slaughtering each other. he could hear the clattering beats of the swords in the distance. it didn’t seem like an easy win, but it wasn’t a bloodbath either. 

after a two-minute gallop, he spotted them far away from the field. it was a single combat. the akielon armour and the repulsive green cape was unmistakable. he watched them from a distance, fists clenched. he was ready to run to his brother and embrace him with an abiding cheer. but he never could have prepared himself for what was coming. as auguste raised his sword to strike, the akielon stabbed his through auguste’s chest and quickly removed it, pushing him off his horse. laurent’s stomach filled with something despicable he’d never felt before. he had to grip his horse harder or he would have fallen down instantly. he needed every bit of self-control not to cry or scream for help, but to start to walk forward. he watched as the akielon tore a piece off his brother’s silver cape, his badge, and jumped on his horse to ride back to their troops. in those nine seconds it took for laurent to reach auguste, he’s already stopped breathing. his pleadingly cold eyes were looking up to the sky, lips chapped, life escaping his warm body. he looked down at his cape, his sweaty, golden brown hair and sword, the blade covered in blood – he had scarred his opponent. or cut down someone else. no, auguste must have been close, so close. laurent could only hope the akielon wears the scar with utter disgust until the rest of his life, until laurent comes after him and finishes his brother’s job. 

*

weeks have passed since laurent returned to the castle, to his chamber, in which he spent his days without talking to anybody but the ghost of his brother. king enzo died two days after receiving the news of his son’s death. whether his heart gave upon him or the poison worked, it didn’t bring tears into laurent’s eyes. the kingdom could burn down with himself inside, for all he cared. he was angry, filled with hatred and pain. his mourning took the life right out his eyes, for days he neither slept nor ate. he would have gladly given up on his body to move on, to a happier place where they could be reunited. 

‘laurent.’ there was a soft knock on the door. he sat up and listened carefully. his self-tormented body looked even more fragile and weaker than before, he could have hallucinated it. but he heard it again. ‘laurent, let me in.’ 

he sounded young. no harshness in his voice. a familiar tone in his ears. it can’t be. his mind must be playing tricks on him. finding no joy in the irony, he got up and steadied himself, dizziness lurked inside his veins. with uncertain steps he walked towards the door and unlocked it. his uncle, Kaius stood before him, slowly opening his arms wide.

‘laurent, you have grown so much.’  
it has been years since he’s seen his uncle, who must have arrived to the after-funeral ceremonies. except he was wearing something familiar on his robe. his father’s robe. it all made sense now.  
‘i’m sorry for what happened to your brother. auguste was the greatest man this generation has known.’ auguste. how dare he speak his name. for years he claimed he found himself buried in work, making excuses why he could never visit. not even the time their mother died. now that there’s no king, no heir, as younger in line, the throne must be his.

‘you must be devastated,’ he said, slowly tracing a finger on laurent’s jawline. ‘heavens, you look so pale, doesn’t he?’ he looked back to one of the guards standing behind him. ‘when was the last time you ate, laurent?’ 

he couldn’t say a word. just took the hand that reached for him. he’d never even thought he would follow the man who was ready to bring a new age to vere, ready to forget everything auguste and their father believed in, to step on their memories and take control. he had to let him. laurent wasn’t even control over his own body and actions. he realised just in that moment how badly he needed guidance when there was no one else anymore to take care of him. 

*

laurent has finally allowed himself to cry. three days later the ceremonies were held, two generously large monuments were raised in honour to the king and the prince. the people of the kingdom, each and every one paid respect to their late rulers by bringing flowers to the graves. laurent was standing next to kaius, who was resting his arm on laurent’s shoulder. when it’s ended, the lords of the court gathered in the dining hall, where kaius announced himself as the new governer. after the congratulations they all sat down, laurent right next to him, looking all confused.

‘governer?’ he asked. ‘i thought... i thought you were here to take over father’s place as...’  
‘king? no, laurent. i could never. haven’t you realised yet?’  
he looked down at his fork and untouched plate. when he didn’t answer, kaius continued. ‘you are the next in line.’ 

the most illogical things raced through his mind. this is how he wants to cheer him up, by telling the greatest joke ever known. but no. as he was thinking it through, he realised that he himself accepted to be nothing but invisible, forgetting that in case something happens to the first born, he is to take his place. ‘me,’ he said, but it sounded more like a question. he steadied his voice and repeated it, embracing it. ‘me.’  
‘oh, laurent. there is so much you don’t know about ruling a kingdom.’ he said, sounding amused. ‘i am here until your twenty-first birthday. you are not wrong, the control will be in my hands as governor. but i shall teach you everything, so when the time comes, you’ll be ready to finish auguste’s destiny. do you understand it, laurent?’  
laurent slowly nodded, eyebrows furrowed. kaius continued. ‘i shall found my own court and army, so you don’t need to worry about politics just yet. you will watch and you will learn, and eight years from now, you will follow in my footsteps.’  
‘as... prince?’  
‘as king, laurent.’ kaius let out a soundless laugh. ‘how come no one ever told you how important you are?’ 

because no one ever believed i could be, he thought.

*

as it turned out, the akielons had no interest in attacking their land, they found more pleasure in watching a foreign, unprofessional man in his twenties trying to rebuild what was left of their unity, and a thirteen-year old nobody, just stepping into puberty. 

laurent still spent way too much time holed up in his room, talking to his brother, but he started to look stronger. kaius made sure he’s eaten enough. ‘no one wants a weakling on the throne,’ he said. so laurent ate. he started to believe his uncle’s words, that one day he could be... no, not king. but someone other than himself. so he listened to him talking about countries and emperors, and he listened to the tales of his new scholars as well, whom he visited every day. no one has seen him smile though, his expressions were blank and unreadable. he’s hidden his feelings very well, and he tried to be polite to the people who have hurt him in the past, even though he was crying inside. at night, when he returned to his chamber, he really did start crying. in those moments he didn’t have to play a part that now was required. he could return to himself, and return to blaming himself. if he had appeared at auguste’s side after he spotted them, he could have joined the fight. he could have saved them. but he was so selfish, wanting the sight of victory only for himself. he’d let auguste die. he could have done something. the pain was unbearable now. 

as exactly one month ago, he heard a knock. he wiped his tears off with a washcloth, and opened the door. two guards were standing outside. ‘your highness,’ the taller said. ‘the governor requires you.’ 

he had no time to realise that he was standing in his nightgown, he was shocked by the guard’s words, using the phrase ‘your highness.’ no one has ever addressed him as highness before. was he really a prince now? was he a prince two months ago as well, when auguste was everyone’s beloved leader, and alive?  
he stepped outside and followed the men. 

kaius lived in enzo’s old suite, which didn’t feel like the old room at all. he has rearranged the furnitures, switched them and brought some new ones. ‘nephew,’ he said, as the guards behind laurent closed the door. wearing a black robe as a nightgown, he moved forward, stepping in the light. the shadow of his beard looked enourmous on the wall.  
‘excuse me for waking you at this hour.’  
‘you were not,’ he replied. ‘i was awake.’  
‘well, well, stayed up late studying, didn’t you?’ he didn’t wait for laurent’s reply. ‘good, there is an important thing i need to teach you and it cannot wait.’

his voice sounded thick and serious. laurent started to like serious. getting involved in other people’s conversations, hearing his own name at the table, but in a different, kind of praising tone. yes, he liked serious. he was ready to step up and shape himself. yet he couldn’t help but feel weak. looking at the walls of this old room, in which he was treated like an annoying ghost, he felt invisible again. and there was kaius who saw him. saw an opportunity in him that might help this kingdom get back on its feet. maybe they both were opportunities to each other. and maybe that was a good thing. 

kaius moved closer to him, ready to speak, but as he raised laurent’s head up by his jaw, he noticed his wet eyelashes, flushed face and his lips pressed together, as if he was trying to look calm. ‘oh, laurent. you are such a lovely boy,’ he sighed. ‘what i’m about to teach you is convulted and requires your complete attention. are you sure you’re ready to take this step and get closer to our goal?’ 

our goal, he thought. which meant getting close to auguste. doing the same things as auguste. making auguste proud. auguste. he would go through anything for him, even the stupid trainings. even the boring politics. he was about to learn something indispensable, that would make him even more important. that would make him feel real and visible.  
‘i’m ready,’ he answered. kaius’ lips curled up. he reached for laurent’s hands, and put them on his waist. ‘untie my robe.’  
after a moment of hesitation, laurent said, ‘i don’t understand,’ and pulled his hands away.  
kaius clicked his tongue. ‘you said you were ready to learn,’ he said, shaking his head now. ‘but i might have seen something in you, that wasn’t there.’ he said something else that laurent couldn’t hear because he was lost in his thoughts. he’s disappointed him. the only person since auguste, who favoured him and treated him like a person.  
with unsteady movements he put his hands back, and slowly untied the robe.  
‘you are such a lovely boy,’ kaius said, smiling. 

*

the second time it happened, there were no formalities. kaius has sent the guards away, emptied the corridor that led to laurent’s chamber. the second time kaius wanted more. the second time it happened, laurent didn’t expect anything. he thought the lesson was over, whatever he was required to do, even though it didn’t make sense, he’s completed it. yet as he entered the room, and shook him up from his sleep, he couldn’t help but feel weak like he’s been poisoned. kaius started stroking his arm as he crawled next to him, unlacing his nightgown from the back. laurent didn’t know what to do. if he resisted, his uncle would say something that he’d heard ever since he was born. that he was worthless, it was a waste of time thinking that he could be someone great. he thought bad words could not affect him anymore, that he’s developed some kind of an immune system, but he didn’t. the words were burning into his skin, veins, into his flesh through his blood. if he resisted, his uncle could do much worse to him. but he was a prince, he’d said it himself. he had the right to speak. he just had to–

laurent shaked his head and tried to get up but kaius was incredibly close, putting his weight on him. he cleared his throat. ‘i don’t...’ kaius moved closer, traced the line of his nape with his nose. laurent shivered. ‘i don’t want to do that to you. it’s—’

kaius pushed laurent’s head into the pillow and lay on top of him. with his right hand, he tore off laurent’s ivory white nightgown and pushed his legs apart with his knees. laurent tried to resist and push himself up but the hand forcing him down was too strong, he could barely breathe. ‘laurent,’ he muttered. ‘don’t make me do this to you. you’re making me do this, laurent. it could have been easier.’ 

he couldn’t reply, because kaius forced his head deep into the pillow again, as he tried to get closer. his failed attempts let him lose focus so laurent could break out to gasp for air. a moment later his hand found the back of his neck again and he was pushed back, gentlier this time. air felt sweet on his wet, hot lips until his tears reached them. he cried out in pain as kaius entered him, and left him feeling exposed, humiliated and filthy. he pushed harder, and laurent had to grab his pillow and bite on his fingers to endure it. kaius had promised him help and guidance, he didn’t understand why he was hurting him now. he let out a loud sob, then couldn’t control his tears anymore. kaius pushed further into him one more time, and stopped. laurent naively thought it was over and silenced himself. 

kaius bent closer to him, with his cock still inside, and whispered into laurent’s ear. ‘you want to be punished, laurent. i know you do.’

he didn’t know how to answer. because kaius was right. the realisation shocked him. he gripped his pillow harder and shut his eyes, waiting for his uncle to give him the punishment he deserved.

*

laurent needed all of his self-control not to walk with his head down. when the mornings came, kaius returned to his authoritative self and acted gracefully as any ruler would, as if the nightly visits had no effects on him. his every day routine demanded concentration, something laurent wasn’t capable of, not since days. he was reminded to sit up straight, raise his head up and look people in the eye when he spoke. he was commanded to attend the classes and he knew he had no other choice. the best he could do was to give him whatever he needed and satisfied him, so maybe he would see how much he improved and he’d leave him alone. maybe that’s all he needed. improvement. 

so laurent tried his best to focus on what was important and shape himself into a prince auguste would have been proud of. he spent his days studying, his nights praying that he wouldn’t come. on most nights, he didn’t. his life was incredibly busy, sometimes he would stay in the dining room all night, talking about strategic conceptions and military plans with the lords of the court – his court. on other nights he came, introducing a new lesson every time. laurent had duties now, he had to memorise uncomfortable movements, he had to learn to accept and endure kaius’ touch and learn how to perfectly get rid of the mess with a simple towel and a bowl of fresh water, like a slave would. it was too much to handle. he’s stopped talking to auguste.

*

by the time of his fourteenth birthday, laurent’s innocently childish clothes were gone. he had his own servants who have dressed him every day, laced and unlaced his clothing, and washed him in the baths. he often wore regular black and silver veretian robes or riding leathers. to the outside world, it looked like he’d went through a rebirth. the child has disappeared.

in the next few months he started to speak up at the meetings, using the knowledge he’d gathered from his lectors and books, twisting and turning it, using his intelligence and sharp mind. soon he realised he had followers. a few young boys, about his age, some younger, who looked up to him. not the way he had looked up to auguste, but they did see something that gave them hope. jord, a former soldier of the veretian army also auguste’s loyal friend walked up to laurent after one court meetup and suggested to form his own. the governor had indeed organised a new one, his, and of course laurent was more than welcome, but he did not think that a child should reign his own court. in a way what kaius thought could not interest laurent less. he had realised that he started to feel rebellious. he wanted so badly to break free. therefore he listened to jord, and talked to his supporters, who talked to some more, and in a short period of time he’d founded the court that only belonged to him. laurent and kaius could not control each other’s, but they were allowed to speak up or attend the meetings if they wanted to. after the launch, kaius was present at the first successful forum, and laurent had commanded everyone to talk about generally rubbish subjects that had nothing to do with the kingdom. so kaius had seen that laurent’s so-called court is what it is. playdates. 

laurent was actually afraid that his members would later tell everything to the governor, but they proved themselves to be loyal. it was a risk worth taking. he developed quite a cerebral plan that he would stick to, he had no control over the governor’s visits though. 

now that laurent was almost a man, he treated him with even less tenderness. his body was fully explored and shaped for pleasure. when laurent tried to speak, and for the gods he tried to object, kaius’ strong and firm hands found the top of his head and forced his whole body down with one simple movement. he had instructed laurent on how to give the greatest pleasure for men to ever known, slowly listing all the things he liked while laurent sucked on his cock, and the next time he appeared at his doorstep, he wished to know how much he remembered. it was not hard to hold laurent’s skinny arms down, causing him bruises, which he tried to hide with long-sleeved leather gowns. when some of his people noticed a scar and huge purple-ish blue bruises on his upper arms, they have thought that laurent must have been through a tough training session. which was also true. 

he’d realised the only way for him to stand up for himself was to train his body, to make it strong. he knew he had no chance to be as wide and tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms as kaius, but he only needed to be three times as brawny as he was now to use his muscles for his advantage. so laurent had asked auguste’s former trainer to teach him, which he had. his life was probably busier than ever. he spent his morning with his lectors, his afternoons practicing swordfighting and hand-to-hand combat, his late afternoons riding his or auguste’s horse, and his nights with kaius. not being able to think by having so much on his mind seemed to be a good thing for a short while. but his soul, that had no time to process what was happening to his body in so many different ways, has started to consume him. no matter how much he wanted to fight, a second later it all seemed worthless and depression kept choking him. he could never make him stop. not until nearly seven years. when kaius arrived to the kingdom, he had hoped that he would get help to get revenge and take the enemy’s life. but the enemy wasn’t the akielon.  
not anymore.


End file.
